


If I Had A Voice I Would Sing

by synchronized_strangers



Category: The Following
Genre: Brief mention of Ryan/Claire, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self-Sacrifice, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synchronized_strangers/pseuds/synchronized_strangers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a war they’ll never win.</p>
<p>Really, it’s a war they can’t win, something Mike knew but didn’t quite understand until now. Until Joe Carroll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Had A Voice I Would Sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowsLament](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsLament/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [If I Had A Voice I Would Sing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456219) by [alucard1771](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alucard1771/pseuds/alucard1771)



There are a lot of people who have laid claim to Ryan’s heart over the years. His family, his sister, Sarah Bennet, Claire. A lot of concepts, too. 

Duty, honor, fighting the good fight. Ryan thinks he sold his soul a long time ago to protect that bottom line, to shore up those gaps. He doesn’t care about the battles if they can win the war, but that’s kind of the problem in Mike’s opinion.

It’s a war they’ll never win.

Really, it’s a war they can’t win, something Mike knew but didn’t quite understand until now. Until Joe Carroll.

He can’t think of Joe as anything other than an event. Joe’s not just a man, he’s a cataclysm. The kind of disaster they’ll write legends about one day. Their Babylon. Their Great Flood. Joe Carroll is the boogeyman the FBI didn’t know enough to fear.

Mike’s still not afraid of him. He can’t be. There’s just no point. Fearing germs doesn’t keep you from getting sick. A fatal virus will still leave you dead.

Ryan gets that. It’s why they work well together, why Mike understands him in a way the rest of the team doesn’t. Ryan only seems erratic until you realize his goal. Turns out fatalism and pragmatism align remarkably well when it comes to real world application.

Joe’s going to kill Ryan, or at least Ryan is pretty sure he won’t survive Joe. It’s in his eyes every time he stares down the barrel of the latest gun, runs into a farmhouse full of killers, taunts their newest boss. Ryan’s got nothing to lose and he’s not expecting to have to live with the fall out.

In his mind, Claire and Joey get their fairy tale resolution, Joe is either dead or locked up, and Ryan... Ryan gets to do what he's spent years working towards one bottle at a time. Ryan gets to die.

No, what scares Mike isn’t Joe Carroll. At least, not Joe-Carroll-the-Event. What scares him is Joe-Carroll-the-Man, because Joe-the-Man is why he’s going to have his throat slit in a boatyard by a bunch of psychotics. Joe Carroll still wants to play house which would be funny if it weren't about to get him killed. It's those little, human urges that make Joe so dangerous because he's got a group of seriously deranged tag-alongs ready to make them happen.

Not that his fear helps anything. It’s just as stupid as fearing the Event, but trying telling his brain that. It doesn’t care, and if he's totally honest, it's not just about the fact that Mike's going to die. It's that he's going to die and there won't be anyone else at Ryan's back. Not like Mike. 

His leg is just knife-edge agony, sharp and sawing at him way worse than the wound in his gut. All the lights have dancing halos, sick little flickers that leave him dizzy and wanting to puke. Or they would if he could taste anything but blood. His chest, though, his chest just feels cold.

426 E. 15th St., Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio 44223. 

The secret he won’t sell, not even to save his life.

It might be easier to live with if it were a temptation he had to fight, but it’s not like he’s going to be living with anything in a second, so it shouldn’t matter.

Except... it kind of does. 

It kind of matters a lot. Almost as much as the sound of gunshots he wasn’t expecting, but isn’t surprised to hear, and suddenly Mike is hot, burning, his body lit up like he’d been doused in kerosene but he can’t stop shaking because he’s been thrown to the ground.

If his stomach weren’t empty he’s pretty sure now would have been the right time to puke. He dry heaves a few excruciating times to mark the occasion, full body throws that should feel like clenching but don’t.

For a second that’s confusing until the nausea resolves into a searing ache. Then it becomes clear, because he’s pretty sure his stomach’s been punctured. Pisses him off, if he’s honest, that even though he made it through -- stayed quiet, played dumb -- even though Ryan tried to save him, the bastards still might kill him if the ambulance doesn’t make it in time.

It’s not over until he stops breathing, and that seems kind of imminent, so when Ryan picks him up, wraps one long arm around Mike’s waist, he says, “I didn’t tell them, Ryan. I didn’t tell them a-anything.”

He really wishes he could smell something through the blood because he’d like to know if the reason Ryan looks wrecked is because he’s been drinking, or if there might be a little piece of heart in there somewhere for Mike, too.

Can’t have everything.

He’d settle for waking up. That’s not too much to ask, right? A chance to wake up?

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like you all to think of me as a [friend](http://synchronized-strangers.tumblr.com). :)


End file.
